First Impressions on a Tour upon the Continent

We soon entered Champagne, and continually met bands of joyous peasants gathering the rich produce of the widely extended vineyards. This is the only province throughout France where the grape of which this wine is made will grow, and there must be, I should imagine, some great peculiarity of soil. The vintage, universally, was finer than had been known for years. It is generally remarked, that neither in Paris, nor in any other place upon the continent, is wine to be met with of that very superior quality, which it is usual to find in England; no other nation can afford so high a price.

In the vicinity of Vitri sur Marne, the country can scarcely be said to be the country, if trees, green fields, hills, and dales, give a right to that appellation. Nothing but one vast boundless uninclosed surface of stubble was to be seen. It reminded me (in point of monotonous effect) of the plain in the Palais de la Verité (mentioned by Madame de Genlis), where a fairy condemns the fickle-minded Azelie to remain for years, in order to cure her of a passion for variety. During this wearisome journey, I know not what we should have done without Moliere. Fortunately we had him in the carriage, and I need not say what an enlivening compagnon du voyage he was. Turning our eyes therefore from the "dull realities" of the scene around, we were soon lost in an imaginary world, full of bright creations and amusing conceptions.

We dined and slept at Chalons sur Marne, where we met with tolerable accommodations, but were charged very extravagantly, at la Cloche d'Or. We left it at half past six the next morning, and found the road equally uninteresting: I could hardly have formed an accurate idea of the bald sort of ugliness of a great portion of France, had I not thus witnessed its effect. The usual absence of costume continued, and there was nothing to break the dulness, or to give a ray of animation to the scene.

We now and then passed through villages, built formally in a long street, with the high road running between the houses; dirty, ugly, tasteless, and mean! no gardens, consequently neither fruit nor vegetables to be seen, and as there was no appearance of trees for such an immense number of miles, we were at a loss to conceive how the wretched inhabitants warmed themselves sufficiently, during the winter, except from the heaps of cinder dirt, at some of their doors, which proved that coals were burned there; not a very common circumstance in France. Troops of beggar children now ran after us, bold, audacious, and filthy in the extreme; all our charitable feelings froze in a moment.

The farther we proceeded, the wider seemed to extend the vast and barren desert that surrounded us; never can I forget the disgust and ennui which assailed us in consequence. We tried to awaken our powers of conversation, when wearied by long continued reading, but it was a vain attempt. Imagination seemed extinguished, and our minds experienced a degree of stagnation impossible to describe. After passing through this country, I must be allowed to differ, for the rest of my life, from those theoretical reasoners, who think it is even a point of morality to maintain, that the mental powers are not influenced by local impressions. I am convinced Madame de Genlis took her idea of the redoubted plain in her Palais de la Verité before mentioned, from having travelled through this part of her native country; for surely she would never have discovered its parallel in any other: even in the deserts of Arabia the traveller finds a species of sublimity, and undergoes perils, which at all events prevent his suffering from ennui.

In many of the villages (in all parts of France) we observed the sign of "Saint Nicholas." He is a very popular saint among this nation, and must have been a man of taste, as he stands forth the patron of all the young unmarried damsels, presiding over every nôce, and fête de village. He has chosen a most amusing metier altogether, thereby proceeding upon a far more rational and sensible plan than some of his brethren, many of whom have made it their business to frown upon the enjoyments of mankind, and who pretend that the only way to merit heaven in the next world, is to make a purgatory of this. Fortunately their unhappy followers are but few, (comparatively speaking); for the great body of the people, in all ages, seem to be of Sir Toby Belch's opinion, when Shakespeare makes him indignantly exclaim to his formal censor Malvolio, "what! dost think that because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?" These Roman catholic puritans, let it be remembered, have the honour of being imitated very closely by many a worthy English heretic.

It was a great relief to us to enter Rheims, where we took a luncheon, and afterwards walked about the town, and saw the grand gothic cathedral. The façade of this building is most superbly beautiful; the fret work, carving, and imagery, are in some respects superior to those of the Duomo at Milan; although the edifice is of a less precious material, much smaller, and in a different taste altogether. The interior is grandly simple, the windows of the most magnificent old stained glass, in patterns of infinite variety, and of the most glowing colours. But the outside of this cathedral is by far more imposing than any other part, and I was rather discomposed upon being obliged to acknowledge that our Westminster Abbey is extremely inferior in every way. Here the ancient monarchs of France used to be crowned (as books of juvenile information have duly informed us), and we could scarcely imagine a finer place for such sort of spectacles. The portal was built in the thirteenth century, and the other parts as far back as about the seventh or eighth.

We did not remark any thing particularly worth notice in the town (which is nevertheless very large), and the only thing which struck us forcibly was the general ugliness of the bourgeoises, and also the paysannes of the environs. The country beyond was exactly in the same wearisome character with what we had already passed, and the road for many miles extremely bad.

Owing to repeated delays about horses, we did not arrive at Laon until nine o'clock in the evening, by which means we lost the view of the two last stages before reaching that place, where the country is said to improve in a very striking manner, swelling occasionally into lofty hills, enriched with wood.

Laon is built upon an abrupt and rocky eminence, shaded by trees, and commanding a very extensive bird's-eye prospect of the surrounding country. There was a high appearance of cultivation and fertility of soil, while the immediate vicinity of vineyards, filled with cheerful groups of people, was very enlivening; but no costume was to be observed except the almost universal cross worn round the necks of the women11. Our inn (à la Hure) was extremely well appointed; the host an attentive, civil old man, and we were waited upon with celerity and good humour by two young paysannes, who appeared to think no exertion too much which could contribute in any way to the comfort of the guests. One of them (like most French servants) chatted in a natural intelligent manner, was full of frolic and glee, ready to laugh at every thing, carolling with the gaiety of a lark, in all parts of the house, and seeming with difficulty to restrain herself from dancing at the same time: all this (as I once before mentioned) without the least degree of immodesty. What a wide difference exists between the ideas of a French and English woman in this situation of life, on the score of what is called propriety; a vague term, and changeable as the chamelion in its nature, however some worthy folks may suppose it confined solely to one shape, and one definite meaning. The sense of female honour among the country girls of France, so far from being too lax, or but little regarded, seems, on the contrary, to be particularly correct, and I have taken some pains in my inquiries upon this point. The loss of fair fame is rare, and always accompanied by the utmost disgrace and ignominy; so much so, that one young woman (whose heart was, I am sure, upon her lips) told me, "that if such a circumstance occurred, the unfortunate girl had much better be dead at once; for she never would be looked upon again by her youthful companions." Let it, therefore, be remembered, to the credit of the French, that innocence is perfectly compatible with a lively freedom of manner, and that virtue can be firmly maintained, although unshackled by the restraints of primness and formality. I am now convinced that climate has a great deal more influence upon our feelings and conduct than I was once inclined to think. The chilly fogs and heavy weight of atmosphere in England do certainly affect, in some measure, the mental faculties of her children, rendering their ideas of morality needlessly gloomy and strict. I judge (in part) from my own occasional sensations. I never feel in so cheerful and happy a frame of mind, so willing to be candid, and to look upon persons and things in the most favourable light, as during a fine clear sunshiny day. Au contraire, there have been moments in the cold, humidity, and dark gloom of winter, when I have been shocked and ashamed at perceiving my sentiments involuntarily narrowing into prejudices, and my spirits saddening in proportion. It has required a strong exertion of reason to get the better of such feelings, and even to divest myself of an idea of their being in some degree meritorious.

I now hasten to continue the narrative of our route from Laon to Cambray, which was a day's journey. The road for the first stage presented us with a welcome variety of landscape, hills, dales, copses, shady villages, and fertile fields. Never did we see such a profusion of fine apples as were growing here, on each side of the way. The peasants were gathering them as we passed, and heaps of this rosy, tempting fruit were piled up in hillocks beneath the trees from which they had just been taken. They were even strewed by thousands on the grass around, and were perpetually rolling into the road under the wheels of our carriage. Such a triumph of Pomona it is really difficult to imagine without having seen its animating effect! We stopt to purchase some, and found them truly delicious; spirited, juicy, and possessing all the acid sweetness of champaigne. We remarked the soil in which these trees so peculiarly flourished: it consisted of a loose, light, sandy earth, with a mixture of clay; but in those parts of England where they thrive best, I understand that the soil is of a redder earth, with not nearly so large a proportion of sand. For what are called common fruits and flowers I have ever entertained a preference, and for the latter I have almost a passion. The richest collection of rare exotics do not make the same agreeable and soothing impression upon my imagination as the unpretending garden which my mother formerly cultivated in Surrey, or that of a dear and excellent friend, in which from childhood I have ever delighted, and where the common flowers of each season, fruits, vegetables, herbs, and shrubs, flourish together, in defiance of the more refined arrangements of modern days. I recollect the simple charms of her sitting-room windows (shadowed by the climbing honeysuckle and sweetbriar), and those of my mother's pretty doorway, half lost in a thick bower of clematis, with the liveliest feelings of pleasure, while I have totally forgotten a hundred prouder boudoirs, rich in the odours of tuberose, cape jessamine, night-blowing geraniums, and other splendid extravagancies.

The country for the last stage before we reached St. Quentin (a strong-built large town) was very fast relapsing into the baldness of that which had so lately annoyed us; but the peasantry were generally much better looking, cleaner, and altogether gayer in their appearance. This place is in the direct road from Paris to Brussels. We arrived at Cambray to supper, slept, and breakfasted there the next morning, when we proceeded towards the coast. The inn was not very comfortable, although we had the best apartments in the house. It was a very striking and singular spectacle to behold, as we now did, English sentinels on duty at the drawbridges of this town, and an encampment of the same troops just beneath its walls. How would John Bull have writhed and raged with shame and grief, if the scene had been exhibited vice versa in our own country? Can we then (with any pretence to candour and justice) affect to wonder at the deep-felt disgust and dislike of the French towards us?

We saw the fine regiments of our foot guards, and the 95th, or sharp-shooters, here. All the men looked clean, bright, and cheerful, and most of them were decorated with Waterloo medals. Our hearts sensibly warmed at sight of the well-remembered countenance of our countrymen, and (without any degree of unjust partiality) we could not but be forcibly struck with the superiority of appearance and deportment displayed by our English officers, when we compared them with all the French whom we had had an opportunity of observing. There is, I think (generally speaking), a greater suavity and benevolence in the manners of a Frenchman of birth and education; there is a higher degree of polish in his address; but in point of personal appearance I must decidedly award the preference to our manly, graceful, dignified countrymen. An English gentleman (in the true acceptation of the word) is the flower of the world. I do not mean to discuss at length, the different moral virtues and mental perfections of either nation. I have neither time nor sufficient experience and information for such a task; but of this I am convinced, "that the head and heart of our countrymen (taking their fairest specimens) may sustain a comparison with those of any other race of men upon this habitable globe, and fail not to come forth with honour and credit from the investigation." Of the bourgeoisie of each country I cannot pretend to judge; but with respect to the unsophisticated peasantry, I feel by no means clear that the superiority lies on our side. We were informed that a great many of the English soldiers at Cambray, and elsewhere, had taken wives from among the paysannes, but that the petites bourgeoises did not listen so favourably to their vows. Every where we had the gratification of hearing praises of the orderly, quiet, and moderate behaviour of the British regiments.

The country beyond this town, for a considerable distance, was uninteresting, and the lesser towns and villages were very ugly. What was wanting in trees seemed to be made up in windmills, which spread their long arms abroad in every direction. Had Don Quixote been alive, and travelling this road, he would have found himself in the predicament of poor Arlechino, dans l'embarras des richesses.

We now passed through Douay, a clean, gay-looking, strong-built town. It was more than usually alive, from the circumstance of a fair which was going on in the market-place. Among the different articles exposed for sale, I was struck by the cotton handkerchiefs worn by the paysannes. Their richness and beauty of colour were very remarkable, the dyes being brilliant beyond any that we possess, and the patterns very fanciful and pretty. Here the women adopt the same picturesque double gold drops in the ears, as those of Calais; wearing likewise richly-worked heavy crosses upon the bosom, and long loose cloaks, made of coloured linen or black silk, frilled round, with a very deep hood. Two pretty little girls, from twelve to thirteen years of age, had a highly graceful effect, as they passed through the crowd, in white gauze or muslin veils, extremely transparent, and reaching to the ground, thrown carelessly over their heads. They appeared like young sylphs, flitting in all their purity among the gayer, yet grosser, figures which surrounded them.

We arrived in very good time at Lille (frequently spelt Lisle), and entered through a most beautiful gateway of Tuscan architecture. This town is extensive, well built, lively, and interesting: there are excellent shops, with signs of the most fanciful and ingenious devices, like those of Paris. This place is reckoned impregnable, and the citadel is of wonderful strength, being the masterpiece of Vauban, the celebrated engineer. Our inn (l'hotel de Bourbon) was very comfortable in every respect, except that we were bitten by bugs. They, however, are so common in various parts of the continent that the traveller must make up his mind to bear with them as things of course. We were amused by the humour of a valet de place here, who was also hair-dresser and barber: he was a true disciple of the renowned Vicar of Bray, having squared his politics according to every change in the government, and contrived to thrive equally under all. He assured us (as if he had been enumerating his virtues) that Vive la liberté! vive Napoleon! or vivent les Bourbons! was all the same thing to him; and he had constantly held himself in readiness to call out for each, provided they left heads enough for him to find hair to friz, and beards to mow. His countenance made us laugh the moment he appeared, being the counterpart of Liston's, with that peculiar expression of niaiserie which is so irresistibly ludicrous in him. It was no wonder that we were amazed by the number of windmills in the environs of this town; for we learnt that there were no less than two hundred used in making oil, &c.

We quitted Lille the next morning, and in changing horses at Bailleul we discovered that the cap and linchpin of the axletree had fallen off. They were found about a quarter of a mile behind us; and it was very extraordinary that this accident did not occasion our overturn, as the wheel had really no support. The country now began to improve in point of trees and verdure, but still wore an air of formality. A disagreeable patois is spoken here.

The approach to Cassel was very pretty; the trees gradually lost their prim regularity, and formed a rich wood, which entirely covered a high hill, called Mont Cassel. It is the only one in the Netherlands, and commands a most extensive view: no less than twenty-two fortified towns may be discerned from it. Most of the cottages in these environs are thatched, and resemble those in England, each having a little garden (inclosed by neat hedges) full of vegetables. From the summit of the above-mentioned hill, we were much pleased by a prospect of great fertility, and some beauty. Seen from this distance, the artificial mode of planting the trees was not distinguished, and they had a very luxuriant woody effect altogether. Just at the entrance of Cassel is a churchyard, in which we observed a tall crucifix, with a wooden image of our Saviour, larger than life, painted flesh colour, and having a stream of blood flowing from the side (made of a long strip of wire, standing far out in a curve from the body), and which was caught in a cup by another clumsy image (Dutch built) representing a cherubim. The latter was suspended in the air, by some contrivance (not discoverable at that distance), so as to appear flying. Nothing could well be more absurd, or in a worse taste!

We dined and slept at St. Omer, a large town. We found at the inn (l'ancienne Poste) very comfortable accommodations; but it was full of English officers, who had a mess there, and in consequence we could not get a morsel to eat, or a creature to attend upon us, till these messieurs were first served. They were assembled there in readiness for a ball, which was to take place somewhere in the town, at night.

Suffering under the sharpest pangs of hunger, we felt the warmth of our feelings towards our compatriots rather decreasing; but we recovered our nationality after dinner. The next morning we went on to Calais. It was rather a pretty drive the first two stages; the country woody, and the villages much neater than usual. No costume, however, made its appearance (except the long ear-ring and cross), neither could we observe any beauty.

We breakfasted this morning at the small post-house of Ardres. The old dame there told us that the behaviour of the British troops had been most exemplary, and that they would be missed and regretted by some among the natives.

We were now in Picardy, which we understood was more infested with beggars than most other provinces. Some half starved children ran after the carriage, screaming the popular air of Vive Henri Quatre. We gave them a sous or two, purely for the sake of that père de son peuple, whose memory is yet green in their hearts. It is in comparing his species of greatness with that of Napoleon, that I am most forcibly impressed with the inferiority of the latter. The union of talent and benevolence in a sovereign (like that of judgment and imagination in an author) seems almost indispensable; and, at all events, there can be no perfection of character without it. How awfully requisite are both these qualities in the head of an absolute monarchy, and how devoutly to be wished for, even under the less extensively important influence which (like our own) is limited by the laws of the constitution. Those persons, who, from a timid sort of morality, would exalt mere goodness, in opposition to superior talent, seem to me to be thereby counteracting the influence of the very principle upon which they profess to act. Those, on the other hand, who adopt the contrary mode of reasoning are yet worse, for they assert an opinion which is in direct defiance of humanity, morality, and religion. Comparing Napoleon with some of his crowned cotemporaries, I must confess that my admiration of him alarmingly increases; but place him by the side of Henri quatre, and he sinks at once. Madame de Stael has beautifully and justly expressed my own sentiments; I must indulge myself in quoting her eloquent language. Speaking of another political tyrant, (Cardinal Richelieu) she remarks, "On a beaucoup vanté le talent de ce ministre, parce qu'il a maintenu la grandeur politique de la France; et sous ce rapport, on ne sçauroit lui réfuser des talens superieurs! Mais Henri quatre atteignoit au même but, en gouvernant par des principes de justice et de verité! Le génie se manifeste non seulement dans le triomphe qu'on remporte, mais dans les moyens qu'on a pris pour l'obtenir."

Upon approaching Calais, we felt our courage quail beneath the idea of the passage to Dover, which was now so near at hand; but as it never answers any rational purpose to dwell upon disagreeables which are inevitable, and as this transient purgatory was the only means of attaining the paradise of English comforts that awaited us on the other side of the water, we made up our minds, and prepared for our fate with becoming resolution. We were very fortunate in arriving at Quilliac's early in the day, as we had an opportunity of taking possession of a most comfortable suite of apartments, which would not have fallen to our share, half an hour later; for the concourse of equipages which soon followed ours into the inn-yard was quite astonishing. Quilliac's is a magnificent hotel, and seems to be organized in a manner that does credit to the head of the master. They make up from a hundred and fifty to a hundred and sixty beds, and the day of our arrival, they were serving up little separate dinners to a hundred and forty persons, exclusive of servants. Yet the attendance was by no means hurried, or our comforts of any sort diminished, upon that account: every waiter and fille de chambre seemed to know their particular walk, nor could we observe any awkward scrambling or jostling among them.

Determined not again to encounter the annoyance of a crowded packet, we desired inquiries to be made for any family of respectability, who might wish to share a private one with us: fortune befriended us, for we soon beheld some English friends drive into the court, who agreed to join forces, and accordingly we took the Antigone (Capitaine Margollé), between us. She was accounted the best sailer in the harbour, and we found the truth of her reputation confirmed the next morning, when at nine o'clock we all embarked. She brought us into Dover before several other packets, which had sailed from Calais three hours previous to ourselves; but the winds were nevertheless against us, as we were becalmed for seven hours, and the passage lasted altogether ten. I was the only person on board who suffered much; but I speedily forgot all my wretchedness, when I found myself happily landed at Dover, and seated by an English fireside.